First sign of something more
by inyourarmsnow
Summary: Arthur is beginning to realize his feelings for Merlin, the incompetent clotpole.
1. Chapter 1

"_Merlin," he called out. The dark haired boy turned to face him from where he was folding Arthur's clean clothes and placing them in the wardrobe. Arthur walked forward until they were but an inch apart. He could feel Merlin's warm breath on his face. Arthur looked into his deep blue eyes, so trusting, so filled with compassion. His hand reached up and brushed Merlin's cheek. He couldn't take it any longer and impulsively he leaned forwards and brushed his lips against Merlin's. They were so soft, so perfect, and it felt right, them being like this. _

_Merlin's hand reached around and fisted in the back of Arthur's tunic, pulling them closer until they were standing up against each other. Arthur knotted his fingers in Merlin's hair, straining to get all he could out of the kiss, their kiss. He slid his tongue out to brush along Merlin's bottom lip and he felt the boy shudder. Arthur smiled, knowing that he had the power to make Merlin feel things that others couldn't. _

_He slid his hand down to the back of Merlin's neck and pulled away, just enough so that their foreheads were still touching. Merlin tried to capture his lips once more, but Arthur just turned his face and began laying soft kisses at the exposed skin of Merlin's shoulder. It was out of love, and trust, and security, not out of lust (although there was plenty of that). He would give his life for Merlin any day, just to protect him and to keep him safe. He wished he could go to the highest tower in Camelot and proclaim his love for Merlin at the top of his lungs. He had never felt this way about anyone, girl or boy alike, and it was not something that he was willing to lose. Merlin melted into Arthur's embrace, his hand wrapped around the blond's back. He smiled and whispered into Arthur's ear, his lips tickling, 'I love you, my prince.'_

Arthur awoke with a start. His forehead was damp with sweat and he was clutching the blankets tightly to his chest. He wrinkled his brow in confusion. Surely he hadn't been…of course that wasn't _Merlin_ who he was…he didn't have feelings for Merlin!

Even denying it in his head sounded like a lie. Of course there had been moments where he had seen Merlin, cheering him on in a tournament, or smiling at some joke Morgana made, when Arthur had been...captivated...by the pasty incompetent manservant. The way his cheekbones were so beautifully carved into his face, the way his eyes shown when he was laughing, truly laughing…. Arthur shook his head. Surely he had not just called his horrible useless manservant _beautiful_?

A knock on the door startled Arthur from his reverie. "Sire?" came Merlin's eager voice as he opened the door and entered Arthur's chambers without waiting to be invited. He grinned widely at the blond prince who was lying in bed, his faced covered in shock and confusion. Merlin shuffled inside, precariously balancing a tray of food in one hand and Arthur's chain mail in the other. He kicked the door closed ungracefully, the goblet on the tray threatening to tip at any moment. Arthur reached a hand out for no reason, as he was too far away to stop the goblet from crashing loudly to the ground anyways, but Merlin managed to steady himself just in time. He turned to Arthur with a wink and a cheeky grin as if to say '_See? I'm not as incompetent as you think!_' Arthur's heart fluttered and he shut his eyes, trying to push away his forbidden feelings.

"I've cleaned and polished your chain mail for training with the knights today, and I've gotten your favorite," he said, placing the tray down on his table and draping the chain mail over his chair. "Wild berries! I practically had to beg the cooks, but it was worth it because I knew you were feeling lousy yesterday." Arthur's heart softened and he pushed away the covers, moving to the edge of the bed. He swung his feet over the side and let his bare toes brush the cold hardwood of the floor.

"Merlin, clothes," he commanded softly, rubbing his eyes. The brunette complied without complaint, used to Arthur's demands. The prince stood, and raised his arms as Merlin reached out, his fingers gently pulling Arthur's sleeping shirt off over his head.

**AN: Sorry that is pretty much the lamest chapter ending ever. But don't worry! I won't stop there; I'll try and write some more this weekend. Comments are immensely appreciated! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Yay! An update! **

_So, funny story, when I tried emailing this chapter to myself so I could edit it at school, I accidentally sent it to the wrong email address, and of course it turns out to be the email of a camp counsellor I had six years ago! Like honestly, I haven't talked to this girl since I was ten, and now I just accidently sent her some fanfiction. Yeah, that was an embarrassing way to start the week. Anyways, anyways, Merthur time:_

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><p>Arthur tried to restrain himself from staring into Merlin's eyes as his fingertips traced lightly over the gentle curve of Arthur's muscles as he pulled on a clean tunic. His knuckles dragged heatedly across Arthur's hips as he laced up the ties of his trousers around his waist, making Arthur's breath hitch in his throat. He couldn't help but wonder if Merlin was doing this on purpose. The movements of his hands, the softness of his touch; Arthur felt it was a tad more…alluring…than usual, but that was probably just his mind playing tricks on him. His mucked up mind, believing that he felt something <em>special<em> for Merlin, his manservant of all people. Arthur released a shudder that he had been holding in the second Merlin turned away. His skin burned where Merlin's fingers had been and Arthur closed his eyes and tried to calm his heartbeat so he could think this through rationally.

If he thought about it, Arthur decided that maybe Merlin wasn't the _worst_ manservant in all of Camelot. Arthur was _fed_, wasn't he? It was very rare that Merlin forgot to bring him breakfast now, and he even did the washing. There were significantly less torn garments in his wardrobe than there had been just a few months ago. And even Morgana had noticed how nicely groomed Arthur's horse had been lately.

Wait, _what __was __he __doing_? Justifying his sudden interest in Merlin by making him out to be a decent manservant? If Arthur was honest with himself however, he realized that his interest in Merlin wasn't that sudden. He had noticed his manservant's charm awhile back, when he had helped him pick flowers for Morgana's birthday.

"_Merlin, get the horses ready. We're going to get flowers for Morgana." Merlin's eyes had lit up at the prospect of getting away from the castle and the chores and the constant cleaning for a day, and had hastily gotten the horses saddled up. The two of them had ridden off to a field just a few hours away where there were more yellow daisies than blades of grass. Merlin had tied the horses to the trees as Arthur had walked over to the edge of the field and grabbed a decent looking handful of flowers. He had strode back to Merlin, a proud smile on his face for getting Morgana's present all on his own, only to receive a look of disdain. _

"_What do you think? Nice, eh?"_

"_You __can__'__t __give __her _those_,__" __Merlin __had __said, __glancing __down __at __Arthur__'__s __shameful __bunch __of __daisies. __His __face __fell._

"_Well, why not?" he asked somewhat pitifully. Merlin had chuckled, looking up at Arthur with an adorable grin. His slender fingers had reached out, lightly brushing the broken and drooping tops of the pedals. At his touch, one of the flowers had piteously broken in half, falling slowly and defeated to settle at Arthur's feet._

"_Fine,__" __Arthur __said, __throwing __the __flowers __on __the __ground __harshly. __He __sat __down __against __the __trunk __of __a __tree __with __a __huff.__ "__I__'__d __like __to __see __you __do __better, _Mer_lin.__" __Merlin __smiled, __not __cockily, __but __almost __as __though __he __was __sorry __to __have __shattered __Arthur__'__s __smile. __He __reached __in __his __bag __and __pulled __out __a __piece __of __bread __wrapped __in __a __cloth. __He __offered __it __to __Arthur, __who __took __it __silently, __and __proceeded __to __march __happily __into __the __field._

_Arthur let out a sigh and leaned his head back as the clouds cleared in the sky. The sun lit up the woods, casting brilliant shadows across the forest floor. Birds flew from branch to branch behind him and the air was filled with the sound of frogs chirping at a nearby stream. But Arthur's eyes were trained on Merlin. The sun had ignited the flowers, making them an almost impossibly brilliant shade of yellow. Merlin was out in the middle of the field, a handful of large and alive daisies, much better than Arthur could've gathered, his face aglow with beautiful daylight, or pure heaven, Arthur didn't know which. His manservant was grinning a smile so wide it threatened to stretch from one big ear to the other as he ambled peacefully among the flowers. When the wind blew, Merlin looked like he was floating on a sea of sunshine, however corny it sounded in Arthur's head. _

_He __couldn__'__t __help __but __feel __a __twinge __of __joy __somewhere __in __his __stomach __at __the _look _on __Merlin__'__s __face, __like __the __boy __couldn__'__t __be __any __happier __just __to __be __alive. __Arthur __stored __that __day, __that __smile, __in __the __back __of __his __mind __as __a __reminder; __if __Merlin __was __ever __upset, __a __thing __that __made __Arthur__'__s __own __heart __ache __like __it __was __going __to __fall __out, __he __knew __exactly __how __to __cheer __him __up: __take __him __to __pick __flowers._

"Oh Gods," Arthur mumbled, recognizing the roaring fire in his chest. His eyes flew open and he stared furiously at the wall in front of him, mentally berating himself for thinking such things about an insolent clotpole like Merlin.

"What did you say, sire?" his manservant asked from across the room where he was laying out the plates for Arthur's breakfast.

"I didn't say anything, _Mer_lin!" the prince spat, his tone much angrier than he had intended. It felt good to be angry with Merlin though; rather than longing to pull him into his arms and kiss him until he was breathless and moaning Arthur's name, he would much prefer the desire to slap him across the head instead. "I can manage to eat on my own, thank you. Why don't you go…polish my armor?" Merlin hesitated at Arthur's sudden aggression, his hand hovering over the bowl of fruits he was just about to set out on the table.

"But," he started, placing down the tray. "I already polished your armor, sire." He straightened his shoulders and wrung his hands together, as he often did when he was unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. Oh how Arthur just wanted those hands running across the planes of his chest, grabbing him, caressing him…

"Well then clean it again!" he demanded, clearing his throat, and hopefully his mind. "I'm sure that's it's probably worse off than before you started, knowing your incompetence." Merlin narrowed his eyes at the prince, biting back a clever retort. He forced a smile before turning to leave, abandoning Arthur and his breakfast in his lonely bedroom.

"_Prat_," Arthur heard escape his manservant's lips just before the door closed. He fell back against the bed dejectedly, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

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><p><em>Sorry that took so stinking long to update, but you know, school and stuff : Anywho, hope you enjoyed! Comments are the world to me, thanks guys :)_


	3. Chapter 3 fin

**AN: I am fully aware that this is comprised of about 90% run-on sentences, and I'm very sorry, but hey! Be happy I finally updated! Yay!**

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><p>Merlin poured some of the clear solution in the vile onto the end of the rag before recapping the bottle and setting it down on the table. He brought the rag up to the dark gash that ran across the side of Arthur's forehead and applied it gingerly to the wound. He winced.<p>

"Sorry," Merlin whispered. He lifted a hand to stroke Arthur's hair back off his face as he dabbed lightly at the cut again.

"Ouch, _Mer_lin," Arthur complained, shrugging out of the other boy's reach. Merlin sighed, moving to sit on the table in front of Arthur. He reached out and put a hand on Arthur's cheek to turn his face to the side. Oh Lord, Arthur couldn't handle this. Merlin was sitting right in front of him, nursing his wounds, his slender hands on his face and in his hair. Arthur knew his cheeks were bright red but he highly hoped Merlin couldn't tell in the dim light of the candles on Gaius's tabletop.

"Arthur, you need to stop squirming if you want me to try and stitch this properly." Arthur clenched his jaw but remained still, his eyes focused on the line of Merlin's red scarf and where it ran along the dips and curves of his neck. Arthur's mind flashed back to his dream the pervious night, how his lips had run over the tender flesh of Merlin's neck, nipping and biting and eliciting moans from Merlin that weakened his knees and echoed in his head. "Honestly, you were doing so well, I don't know how you managed to get hit so badly." Arthur knew. He knew perfectly well why he had suddenly lost all ability to defend himself and had gotten so distracted that Sir Leon had been able to hit him. And it wasn't _Arthur__'__s_ fault.

"He just caught me off guard," Arthur mumbled despondently.

_Of course, Arthur, having had a rather frustrating morning, had decided that he shouldn't be the only one miserable, and had called for an extended sword skills practice for all the knights. Mandatory. They hadn't dared complain, knowing that an 'extended practice' was Arthur's way of taking out his anger, and none of them wanted to be at the receiving end of one of his outbursts. He did, however, notice some pointed glares aimed his way. Good, he thought, let them be angry._

_The afternoon, although rather gloomy, had started off nicely. Gwaine managed to strike Percival a few times despite his nasty hangover, and Arthur had shown Elyan and Brennis how to attack an enemy who was coming at them from over their right shoulder, which they both managed to learn fairly quickly. In fact, Arthur was relatively proud of his performance; he seemed to be quite the teacher._

_Every now and again he would glance over to the side of the field to see Merlin watching him, an enthusiastically large grin on his face as he cheered him on. It was kind of endearing, to be honest. Every time Arthur would hear his name shouted or an ecstatic cheer escape Merlin's lips, he would smile and his chest would flutter. He proceeded to push himself harder just so he could beat each of the knights, take off his helmet, and turn to see Merlin's proud grin smiling back at him._

_It was actually going quite well. He managed to engage in a fight with all of the knights individually, attacking their weak spots to get the upper hand. Once he had them pinned down, the blade of his sword pointedly threateningly at their throats, he would step back, help them up, and glance over at Merlin, his heart skipping a beat at the other boy's expression. Of course people had been proud of him before, had cheered him on and offered their congratulations when he won, but it had never felt this…intimate. Everything he did, he did to make Merlin proud, and yet he couldn't fathom why._

_Unfortunately, everything couldn't just go smoothly, because no, that would be too easy. As it was Arthur's turn against Leon, he spread his feet, swung his sword about a few times, and locked his shoulder in place. Leon was by far the hardest fight to win, as he had been training with Arthur since they were children, and he knew all of Arthur's techniques better than the other knights. Leon swung out at Arthur, who parried and retaliated by striking a blow at Leon's left shoulder, then his right, then his hip. He was caught off guard and stumbled a bit to the right. Above them, the sun crept out from behind the thick layer of clouds it had been hiding all morning. Arthur glanced back to see if Merlin was still watching. That was his mistake. _

_Merlin was indeed watching Arthur very intently, leaning over a rail, his pale, knobby fingers interlaced in front of him. The sun now shone down around Merlin, almost as if the boy himself were aglow. His hair shone the darkest brown, the light catching each mussed up curl atop his head. He was squinting at Arthur through the brightness, his face contorted in a look of concentration, his eyebrows drawn together and his teeth lightly biting down on his full bottom lip. The way the light bounced off Merlin's cheekbones should've been illegal, Arthur thought, his eyes tracing his manservant's face like his lips wanted to so desperately._

_Suddenly Merlin's face changed, his eyes widened, his eyebrows raised, his mouth opened to a little 'o', and his look of surprise and concern was so cute that Arthur just chuckled fondly, not realizing the cause for Merlin's concern until the blade of Sir Leon's sword had come crashing down on the edge of Arthur's helmet, striking his shoulder and elbow before he managed to stagger out of the way, falling to his knees._

"Merlin," Arthur said, his hand shooting up and taking Merlin by the wrist. The ministrations on his aching forehead stopped and he sighed. He honestly couldn't take any more of this. Not the pain, Arthur had endured plenty of physical pain in his lifetime, and he hardly thought a little scratch could kill him. No, he couldn't take any more of this…pining. This unrequited love. This silent longing and lustful thoughts and confusing dreams mucking up his head.

"Merlin…" he repeated. He was going to say something. He would tell Merlin how he felt and then just move on and forget it ever happened. It had to be said. (And besides, if Merlin didn't feel the same way, he could just banish him anyways…)

"Sire?" Merlin asked, acutely aware of the prince's grip on his wrist.

"Right, I just wanted to say-, I mean, I needed to tell you that-, what I mean is-" Merlin repressed a chuckle.

"If I didn't know you I'd think you were getting all flustered, sire," Merlin joked, unaware of the reality that Arthur was indeed quiet flustered and at a loss for words at the very moment. He forced a chuckle but it sounded foreign coming from his lips. His lips, which he noticed were surprisingly dry. And his throat was rather tight. And my, it felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor. Was this what normal people felt like in this situation. He looked down and quickly wiped his palms on his trousers.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked again, peering down at Arthur from underneath his lengthy, full eyelashes. Even in the candlelight Arthur could make out the magical blue of Merlin's eyes, unlike any he had seen before, and it set off sparks in his head. And that was his demise.

Abruptly, impulsively, Arthur's hands flew up to cup Merlin's face and he pulled the other boy closer until the were less than an inch apart, and Arthur could feel Merlin's breath, see the shock in his eyes, hear his heart beating rapidly, feel the softness of his skin and his hair under his fingertips. More slowly, more gently, their lips brushed and their eyes closed, and Arthur felt like nothing existed but him and Merlin, the two of them, together, the prince and his manservant, two sides of the same coin.

Reluctantly, their lips parted and Arthur's hands fell to his lap. His eyes immediately followed, focusing on the interesting pattern of the floorboards, and they were quite interesting, refusing to look Merlin in the face. His lips tingled where Merlin's tender, perfectly soft lips had been just moments before. He focused on trying to regain his breath that seemed to have completely escaped him.

"Arthur…" Merlin whispered, his voice a bit hoarser and tentative than usual. He knew this was a bad idea. Arthur's hands fisted and his mind began spewing out reason's for Merlin's banishment: _he is a traitor to King Cenred, father; he is a sorcerer, father; he poisoned our horses, father; he called me fat, father…_. But suddenly Merlin's fingertips were tracing the line of his jaw and his thumb was under Arthur's chin, pulling his face up until finally Arthur looked at him.

Merlin smiled. He _smiled._ Arthur's heart skipped a beat and he all of a sudden he felt weightless, light as air. He felt his own tense expression melt away at the look in Merlin's eyes, a look that guaranteed Arthur his smile was genuine and he wasn't just milking this sudden weakness at Arthur's expense; it was a feeling that automatically relieved all of the frustration and anger and confusion that he had been feeling since he met Merlin.

"I…had no idea," Merlin said, incredulously shaking his head. His grinned widened even further, if that was possible, and Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. The feeling felt so freeing that he laughed and his chest shook and he closed his eyes, his cheek pressed into Merlin's palm, and his hands reached up to hold Merlin's neck once more.

"I had no idea either," Arthur said. They both laughed once again, softly, their faces just inches apart, and the sensation was euphoric. Relief washed over Arthur, blanketed by happiness and bliss and just plain love. Merlin's eyes glistened with the reflection of the candles as he pulled Arthur's lips to his own, and they kissed.

-fin-


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